The Holy Dark
by AxelCat
Summary: Thom has lived with his illness for years. He has functioned to the necessary extent to get through in life. Now it's getting worse, and he can't control his symptoms any more. With extremely inconvenient timing Roger Conte, handsome and clever, appears in his life. Thom won't hope for a fairytale ending. He won't he won't he won't. - OCD and anxiety-ridden Thom, high school AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: ****The Holy Dark****  
Author: ****Axel-Nathaniel (AKA AxelCat) ****  
Rating:**** NC17****  
Fandom: ****The Song of the Lioness****  
Genre: ****Angst, romance****  
Pairing/s: ****Roger/Thom, Alanna/George  
****Trigger warnings: ****Obsessive compulsive disorder, and related symptoms; anxiety disorder and related symptoms; self harm;****panic and anxiety attacks.**

* * *

_Thump, thump, thump. _

One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen.

_Thump, thump, thump _on the wall.

One two three four five six seven eight-

"Thom?"

_Thump, thump, thump._

-nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen.

"Thom, come on. School starts in an hour."

"J-just a second, sister." He stood away from the wall, and cradled his head in his hands. Alanna opened the door very slowly, and set her jaw as she saw him.

"You told me you'd stopped that, Thom," she said. Her tone spoke volumes of distress and anger, but he couldn't hear them. Still he turned and smiled to her. "Thom, you're-"

"School, Alanna." He grabbed his scarf from his cupboard door, wrapped it loosely around his waist and offered his hand to his twin. "How's George?" he asked as she tangled her fingers in with his.

"George is fine. How's your head?"

"My head is fine," he replied with a grimace. He was lying, a small part of his conscience realised, but he had become numb to the pain in his head. It was a necessary pain, a necessary evil, and it was not necessary to concern Alanna.

Alanna had enough concerns, after all.

"We haven't talked properly in ages, brother," she said as they walked downstairs in single file, hands still together. "I miss you."

"Well you've been busy. Anyway, you shouldn't miss me. I'm right here." He nudged her with his shoulder, and felt a slight tremor go through his body.

She smiled and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. He forced himself to keep walking, to not shake. It would destroy her if he did. They had been closer to each other than anyone else up until their fifteenth year. That was when Alanna had started to branch out in her social life, and Thom's state got worse. Now, in their seventeenth year they talked less than ever before. Alanna was thriving, and Thom was withering. They still loved each other, more than anything, but their connection was fading.

Thom struggled as Alanna was pulled away from him. By her boyfriend, by her friends, by her teachers... it didn't matter to much as to what caused the split, because it hurt. Thom had no 'friends'. He had people he spoke to, sometimes. That was about it. Alanna was his shining companion in life, except she was no longer his. She was the world's. Thom was pretty sure that one day she'd save the royal family from death or something equally ridiculous. She was that type of person.

They walked to school together, both dreading the start of term, but for entirely different reasons. Thom was terrified of the amount of contact required, and the amount of time he had to spend out of the security of his own bedroom. He couldn't hide away at school. He couldn't protect himself in the same way. He couldn't have anxiety attacks, either. Or more, he wouldn't let himself. He knew the humiliation of having panic and anxiety attacks at school – he had witnessed such humiliation occur to three people, and he did not want to join them in their place at the bottom of the heap in life.

Contrary to them, no-one knew him. He was invisible. Those who stood out, though – or more, stood out in an 'abnormal' way – were made so visible that they couldn't hide, and that even if they wanted to disappear, they could not. He didn't want to be put there.

They arrived at school and parted with a brief hug.

Alanna went to find her friend Jonathan, who Thom hated with a burning passion. He was up himself to a whole new level.

Thom immediately went to the library, where he settled down on a lounge chair with his copy of 'Cat's Cradle'. He intended to wait for as long as possible to go to class, so he wouldn't be caught in the rush of students trying to get to their respective classrooms. He didn't think he was quite in a place where he could tolerate the constant physical contact with basic strangers.

"Nice choice. Vonnegut's great," a voice said above him. He looked up.

_Too close too close get away from me please don't touch me too close._

He held his panic in and nodded at the man who stood near. He was a pretty boy, with a straight nose and vibrant blue eyes. "I know." He looked back down at his book. The person laughed slightly and took it upon himself to sit down on the arm of the chair.

Thom ignored him as best as he could, but he could feel his body heat and hear his breathing.

"Vonnegut's use of the English language is beyond profound. I mean, his use of almost... lyrical patterns within prose is stunning."

Thom's interest was peaked, he would admit. "Yeah, he's... revolutionary." He spoke cautiously, but he did want to have the conversation – he wanted to talk to someone about Vonnegut, particularly someone with such a lovely way of speech. "His treatment of the human race is beautiful. He's a very raw author."

The other man was looking at him with genuine curiosity and interest. That was rare. "I'm Roger," he said.

Thom raised an eyebrow, and replied with, "I'm Thom. Nice to meet you."

"You, too." They smiled at each other, but while Roger continued to peer at Thom, Thom glanced back at his book. "Which year are you in, Thom?"

"Eleven. You?" Thom didn't look up, although his attention was on Roger. He thought, absently, that he must come off as very rude – not looking at his companion. What he tried to explain to himself was that it was better to be seen as rude than to be panicked, although neither are optimal.

"Bummer, I'm in twelve."

"I've, uh, never seen you around before. Are you new here?"

"Yeah, first day today." Roger smiled a little when Thom looked up at him. Thom was struck by the realisation that Roger was ridiculously attractive, and blushed. "I didn't think anyone would even know Vonnegut's name here, to be honest. Maybe I misjudged the place."

Thom snorted. "You didn't. Look, outside of me, the hipsters, and some of the rich kids, you won't hear Vonnegut's name mentioned." Roger chuckled.

"Glad I found you, then! You're not a hipster, then?" His tone was one of near-disbelief.

Thom smirked. "Do I appear to be wearing a flower crown and Instagram filtering selfies of me smoking organic tobacco?"

Roger raised an eyebrow. "Stereotyping, much?"

Thom just shrugged. "That's what my experience of hipsters is."

There was silence for a few moments until the bell rang for class to start. Roger swore quietly. "I was supposed to go to class early to talk to the teacher, shit."

"Hey, don't freak out." Thom chuckled. "The teacher won't care. Who've you got?"

"Uh, Mister... Olau, I think."

Thom smiled. "Lucky. He's a great teacher. However, he may actually have paid attention if told there was a new student, so I'd head off if I were you."

Roger nodded and stood. "Aren't you coming?"

Thom shook his head. "I avoid the crowds."

"Oh." Roger stood there, Thom back with his book. "Would you mind braving the crowds to show me where my classroom is?" He immediately winced and continued with, "Sorry, I just don't know anyone else."

Thom thought it over as quickly as he could, and, hesitantly, he stood and nodded. "Which room?"

"13B."

Thom nodded once more and led Roger out of the library, 'Cat's Cradle' tucked firmly under his arm. He was shaking as he (as Roger had put it) 'braved the crowds'. "This way," he said, indicating a side hall to Roger. He hoped it would be less crowded. It wasn't.

He managed not to touch anyone, and kept his anxiety in check. "Here you go," he said with a shaky smile. "13B, modern history with Mister Olau. Have fun."

Roger grinned, "Thanks, man. See you around?"

"I'm sure." Roger touched Thom's shoulder and shook him gently, as Thom had seen male friends do to each other before. That didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. He shook and tried to maintain his smile. "Go on."

Roger vanished into the class room.

Thom spent fifteen minutes slumped against the wall in a bathroom, trying to regain his breath and stop shaking. Appearing late got him three days detention. Not a great start to the term.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **The Holy Dark  
**Chapter: **2**  
Author: **Axel-Nathaniel (AKA AxelCat)**  
Rating:** NC17**  
Fandom: **The Song of the Lioness**  
Genre: **Angst, romance**  
Pairing/s:** Roger/Thom, Alanna/George  
**Trigger warnings: **Obsessive compulsive disorder, and related symptoms; anxiety disorder and related symptoms; self harm; joking homophobia; panic and anxiety attacks.  
**Notes:** This chapter is… cheesy - please feel free to give constructive criticism, advice, etc. Not the best author right here.

Also any texting/facebook messages from this point on have the format of Thom's messages in _italics_, Roger's in **bold**, and and Alanna's are underlined.

* * *

Roger found Thom in the library at lunch. "Hey there."

"Hi, Roger," Thom said without looking up. He had moved on from 'Cat's Cradle' to 'Ender's Game'.  
"Whatcha reading?"

"'Ender's Game' by Orso-"

"Orson Scott Card." Roger's smile was impossible. "Great taste in literature _and_ cute, you have stolen my heart," he said.

Thom looked up, bright red and wide-eyed.

Roger's cheeks went pink – nothing in comparison to Thom's. "Sorry, that was inappropriate."

Thom cleared his throat. "That's fine." He went back to his book.

"Wait. You're not homophobic are you?"

Thom thought it over. "Gay as they come."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm gay as they come. Contrary to homophobic, I mean." Thom couldn't move his neck. He was shaking. He had never said that he was homosexual before. Alanna knew, of course, but he had never stated it.

"Cool." Silence. "I'm... queer as a three dollar bill." Thom let out a harsh laugh.

"Now that's just _gay,_ dude," Thom said in a low, gruff voice that emulated the stereotypical jock.

"No homo, guys, no homo." Roger looked down at Thom and settled back on the arm of the lounge chair. They laughed together and Thom smiled without having to force it.

It was nice, Thom decided.

"Which classes are you in?" Roger asked after a small silence. Thom listed his elected subjects, and asked the same of Roger, who responded in kind. "We both take advanced English, that's exciting. I'll be graced with your presence next period, then."

"You're graced with my presence now, dumbass," Thom replied in a teasing fashion. He put down his book and turned slightly so he was facing Roger. His body was in a constant state of shaking. It was tiring. He wanted to look at Roger, though, and examine him a little more closely. He stood by his earlier observation: exceptionally handsome. His hair was longer than most boy's, tied up at the back of his head, and a pair of glasses had taken place balanced on the bridge of his nose.

"And I am extremely appreciative."

Thom wished he hadn't closed his book. He might be able to hide his blush if he hadn't. "Wow, you are cute. Hey, have you got a twin? Because I saw a kid that was identical to you but in different clothing."

"No, no, that's just my evil impersonator. Don't worry about her." Thom shook his head, "Nah, that would have been my twin, Alanna."

"She's very... charismatic. She was with my cousin."

Thom paused. "I thought you said you didn't know anyone here."

Roger shrugged, "Well if I had said I did you may have insisted I get Jon to walk me to class instead of doing it yourself."

Thom choked. "Jon? Jonathan is your cousin?"

"Yes... is that a problem?"

Thom sighed and rubbed his temples. "No, just..." He looked at Roger. He could see the resemblance when he knew it was there. "He's just..."

"An insufferable bastard?"

"That's the one."

Roger nodded. "Yeah, he can be like that. He's a good guy though."

"I'm sure," Thom said dryly.

They fell into a conversation about the origin of the term 'bastard' that lasted until the bell rang once more for class to start. Once more, Roger touched his shoulder. Thom flinched.

"Is something wrong?"

Thom swore under his breath. "No, not at all." He stood, book in hand. "I'm sorry, I've got to get to class."

"Thom." Roger didn't touch him, although he reached to. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, Roger." Thom smiled and left. He almost expected Roger to follow him, but he didn't. Instead Thom felt himself caught in the waves of students, pushing and pulling him, hands and torsos and legs and arms _touching him_, pulling him with them.

He felt the panic set in, the white noise whir in his mind. He could feel his skin crawling and his muscles tightening. His legs clenching up and his limbs becoming heavy.

He heard himself scream.

Then everything was a mess of emotions and sensations. There was too much. Too much noise, too much motion, too much sensation. He could feel pain in his chest and his throat closing up, the inability to breathe taking over.

The next thing he knew there was silence, blackness.

There was no bright light or clear noise. No-one was touching him.

"Is he going to be okay?" a voice he barely recognised was saying.

"I hope so." That was Alanna. "He hasn't... wait, I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Sorry, I'm Roger." Roger. That was it. _Shit._ Roger was there? Why? What on Earth had happened?

"Both of you out, he's waking up." Another voice.

"I'm his _siste-"_

"_Out!"_

There was silence apart from the shuffling of feet.

"Thom. Thom, are you awake?"

Thom nodded his head, and immediately regretted it. His neck was tense to the point of pain.

"Do you know what happened?"

He forced himself to speak. A quiet, quiet 'no'. His throat hurt, and he couldn't quite tell why.

"Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"You're in my office. I am Nurse Green. You had an anxiety attack in the hallway on the way to class. You apparently showed symptoms of hypersensitivity, sensory overload and extreme muscle tension. Two of your peers carried you here when you let them touch you."

Thom nodded again, slightly less pain going through his neck. "I spoke to the principal and he suggests you go home for this afternoon. Will your father be willing to come get you?"

"N-no, he's on a business trip." Thom sat up very slowly. "Did I hurt anyone?"

"No. You upset your sister very much, but you didn't cause any harm. Are you aware of causing harm during panic attacks?"

"I hit my father once," he said, quiet as a mouse. "When I was fourteen."

"And you're seventeen now?"

"Uh, y-yes."

"Okay. Do you need anything?"

"No," he said.

"Are you comfortable with your sister coming in?"

He refrained from snapping at Nurse Green, and telling her to stop bombarding him with questions.

"No, that's... that's fine."

The rest of the day passed without much event. Jon gave Alanna and Thom a lift home, and Thom remained quiet. He thought, absently, that he had not apologised to Roger for leaving so abruptly.

He went home and went to bed, where he promptly fell asleep. He awoke at about twelve in the morning, and immediately ran downstairs to get a glass of water. He felt like his throat was cracking from dryness. His stomach churned in the post-panic nausea he was all too familiar with. He hated it even as much as the attacks themselves. The reality of his panic attack was setting in, so he got out his laptop and settled down on the couch next to the fire.

He checked the various social networking sites he frequented and, hesitantly, entered Jonathan Conte's facebook in search for Roger. It was not difficult to find him. There he was, smiling brightly through an Instagram filter. "Hipster," Thom said under his breath. He had quite the crush, though, if he was honest with himself. Roger was charming, sweet, and handsome, hipster or no.

_Send friend request._

He clicked – and immediately regretted it.

Still, he sat there and browsed through his facebook feed until there was a small _ping_ of a notification.

_Roger Conte has accepted your friend request. Write on Roger's wall!_

Another little _ping_.

_Roger messaged you._

Thom inhaled, and held his breath for a count of three, then exhaled for a count of four. He opened the message.

**'Hey, Thom,**

**I just wanted to apologise in case I did something that triggered you today. It was not my intention and I hope that you're okay. :)'**

Thom smiled slightly, but felt shame fill him up.

_'Hey, Roger,_

_You did absolutely nothing that triggered me. I'm sorry to have been such a bother. Thank you – I'm fine. I hope you had a good first day at Eastwood! :)'_

**'I'm really glad. Bother? You weren't a bother. It was lovely spending time with you. It was a good first day, thanks. You were right about Olau, by the way. Cool dude.'**

_'Thanks, Roger. He's a very cool dude. Did he talk you all through the so called 'rules of history'?'_

**'Haha, yup. It seemed to be a point of contention amongst the other students. Is it always so... loud?'**

_'Which school did you come from?'_

_'_**Um, The Royal Academy for Boys. Why?'**

_'Just curious. To answer your question, Olau's classes are both the loudest and the quietest. Less people talk, but more people talk on topic. You'll find that things get louder (particularly in other teacher's classrooms) as the term goes on.'_

**'Should be interesting.**

**I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but I really have to get to sleep. See you tomorrow?'**

_'Doubtful. Have a good day, though. :)'_

**'Not coming tomorrow? Are you okay?'**

_'Dreading the onset of the inevitable. _

_The inevitable being all my peers ostracizing me for my little break down today.'_

**'I'm dead tired and not in a place to argue, but please come tomorrow. Talking to you was the highlight of the day.'**

_'I'll think on it. _

_Now go to sleep. :)'_

**'Yes, sir! Night, Thom. :)'**

Thom fell asleep with a small smile on his face.


End file.
